The Perfect Love Affair is One Which is Conducted Entirely by Post
by Malfoyesque Tendencies
Summary: [[BDSM AU]] Here are all the current letters, in order, written between Harry Potter and his Master, Draco. Harry also writes to his dead godfather Sirius as a form of therapy, and encourages Draco to do something similar. / This is an ongoing RP that can be found at purebloodferret / healer-potter (.).
1. A Little Background

Hi guys! This is just an area where I have bunched all of mine and my Harry's (RP) letters from the tumblr blog that we post on. It's half so that new followers can come here and read them without having to sift through shittones of old reblogs and half so that other people can enjoy our spontaneous writing!

This is an AU BDSM RP. if you have a problem with that, please don't read. Harry is still married to Ginny, and he has his son James, and (AU) an infant daughter, Cordelia. He is a healer at St. Mungo's, and is having an affair with a certain pure blood blonde.

_(Draco's background - found on purebloodferret's tumblr)_**  
The year is 2018**  
Draco Malfoy is the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He has held this post since 2006 and is currently teaching one of Harry's children, James who is in his first year.  
He is divorced, with one child, Scorpius, who lives with his mother in France whom he very rarely gets to see. In two years Scorpius will turn 11 and attend Beauxbatons Academy - much to Draco's disapproval.  
Draco began an affair with Potter after an accidental run-in with the man mid 2017 that turned into a fight, and further progressed to aggressive, fetishized sex when he discovered Potter was enjoying the verbal and physical abuse being projected by the Slytherin. Their meet-ups quickly became a regular event until school started back in September forcing them to put it on hold. So instead, they write to one another (as well as other people in their lives).

**Please note the titles of each chapter purposely change formatting from (eg) Jan 7 and January 7, and this determines who starts the letters. (Harry's format is the shortened version). Also any letters written to other people are noted as such in the title and posted separately, regardless whether or not they were written on the same day as correspondence between the pair.**

**Also, anything underlined is meant to be striked out. FF doesnt seem to have that option. So if you see anything underlined, it's supposed to be crossed out words.**

Feel free to follow us both on purebloodferret's and healer-potter's tumblrs (urls as written) as we post all of our letters there, then compile the daily letters to add to the collection here.

Enjoy!


	2. January 6, 2018 - Dear Professor Snape

**January 6, 2018**

Dear Professor Snape,

I know this one of those 'letters to no one', but seeing as though my owl, Iris, is off delivering a message to another, I'll probably just end up storing this in a file under "Draco are you mental, stop talking to dead people". I just need to get this down in ink as my pensieve was destroyed last month during a shameful tantrum that I'd rather not go into. Potter suggested I write to you actually, so I can blame him for looking like a crazy person when I'm found naked, locked up in my study and plastering the walls with my letters.

I'm kidding.

I hope.

He said he sometimes writes to his late godfather when he has a lot on his mind and apparently I look like I have a lot on my mind. Personally I feel a little foolish but whether Saviour Potter has done it again with the brilliant suggestions is yet to be seen.

It's just past Christmas and school has resumed, so I'm sitting in my chambers in the North Tower listening to the Giant Squid doing laps beneath my window. I know that it would have made you so proud to discover that I took your place as Potions Master, but alas, I turned it down for a more appropriate position as Professor Malfoy, Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I know, you're seething with jealousy aren't you? I can taste it. Ironic, I think, that the school I hated most as a child has become my favorite place to be, apart from inside Potter.

I'm not really sure why I wrote that last bit; I know you of all people would be most horrified to find that I frequently engage in explicit activities with the Boy Who Lived. But I guess considering the sole reason I'm even writing to you is because of him, it's largely unavoidable. That's not the reason I am having trouble sleeping lately though, don't get me wrong. He's married, and our -thing- is completely inappropriate and I love it like sweet cyanide. The problem is just that though; I'm addicted to fucking him. I only just left him three days ago and I know I have a whole school term of teaching his bratty little son James (original name, right? I thought you would appreciate it) who started in September before I can see him again and James is the spitting image of him – do you know what it's like trying to concentrate on teaching first years how to counter-curse when you have your lover's eyes glued on you through an eleven year old? It's just downright creepy. I feel dirty I can't look at that innocent face because all I imagine is his father on his knees, looking up at me with fuck-me-harder eyes and it's all wrong and –

Okay I think I'm going to have to burn this letter now. There's too much damning evidence and if this falls into the wrong hands I'll never be able to show my face again. Besides, it's late and I have a class of evil third years first thing in the morning, so I'm just gonna cut this short and, when Iris gets back, send Potter his own letter telling him this was a fucking terrible idea.

-D.M


	3. Jan 7, 2018 - Dear Sirius

**Jan 7, 2018**

Dear Sirius;

I know it's been a while since I last wrote. I've been trying to put things into the right words and it's not working. I really should read that dictionary Hermione gave me… I just needed to get this off my chest, and if writing to my dead godfather is the only way I can do it, then so be it.

The last time I wrote, Ginny had just given birth to Cordelia, and that was almost six months ago. I'm so fucking glad that she hasn't got red hair, though she doesn't really look like me either. I'd probably be wondering whether I'm her real dad if I hadn't completely lost all ability to give a shit. Besides, it'd be hypocritical of me (At least I've learned what that word means).Yeah… I kind of forgot to mention in all my other letters – because I keep those, but still – that I'm kind of having an affair with Malfoy. Junior, not senior, because even I'm not that unhappy at home.

If you had a grave, I know you'd be turning in it. He fucked me in your old leather jacket the last time we met up, and it was some of the best sex of my life. I wonder what Ginny would say if she found out I prefer a nice thick cock up my arse and a little (or a lot) of pain instead of what we do, which she insists on calling 'making love', and just succeeds in making me feel ill. I think Draco's Malfoy's Slytherin has started to rub off on me. Even Ron has noticed.

I won't be able to see Malfoy again til the Easter holidays, and maybe not even then, since James will be coming home from his first year at Hogwarts and Ginny will insist on us practically living over at The Burrow for the whole fucking holiday, even though he came back for Christmas and left not a week ago. I hope I can plead work, although it'll more likely be insanity on a permanent basis.

Shit - I'm being called for diaper duty. We've only just had our second kid and I think Ginny's already hinting for a third. I'm starting to suspect I might have completely ruined her by marrying her. She looks so old, like butter scraped over too much bread. Of course, I'm pretty sure having another baby when we only just got rid of the first hasn't helped. I might just cast an impotency spell on myself and be done with it. Most of my come these days ends up on the surface of wherever Malfoy and I fuck, anyway.

Aaaand now Ginny's about to start rampaging because Cordelia's screaming those impressive lungs of hers out again. Definitely something she inherited from me.

I promise I'll write more often, Padfoot. I miss you.


	4. January 7, 2018

**January 7, 2018**

pet,

Iris just returned this morning at breakfast from delivering my letter of rejection to attend one of the Ministry's boring functions. So I can quickly scratch this down before my class starts.

I tried writing to someone like you said and I think it was more damaging than helpful at all. Now instead of just thinking about my problems I get to look down at stone-cold tangible words echoing my own issues. Don't try to give me advice again, or I'll be forced to punish you; bad pet.

When you are able to reply I want you to rub your palm hard, but subtly, across your crotch and tell me what you were thinking about when you last had to fuck your wife.

You'd better be behaving yourself.

-M

* * *

Master;

I'm in the middle of my lunch break and as soon as I'm finished sending this to you, I'm going to use the rest of my free time to wank. Of course, it's because I'm doing as you said.

I'm thinking of the last time we met – you fucked me in the leather jacket, the night before you had to leave to go back to Hogwarts. You're right (as usual), I definitely have a thing for leather. Especially after that corset.

Luckily, I haven't had to have sex with Ginny for a few weeks – between Cordelia, my work and the Christmas holidays we haven't had time. Merlin for small mercies. I think I'm one of the only married men who hasn't 'had time' for sex. With his wife, at any rate. She almost caught me wanking and using that plug that you like so much last night – you know, the green one?

Sometimes I think she knows.

Fuck…

On an unrelated note, because I don't want to come in the middle of the cafeteria, no matter how good I am at casting notice-me-not-spells, did writing the letter really not help? I've got to confess, I'm a little disappointed, but I'm sorry nonetheless. I wouldn't mind being punished anyway, though. And how is James going? And how many detentions have you given him? He's already written home complaining, though it was probably his fault – he sent home a toilet seat a couple of days ago, much to George's amusement. And sadness.

I'm sorry, I know you don't care about my family matters. I'll go now, or else I'm likely to get blue balls. Next time we meet up, can you use that corset? I've never come harder in my life than last time you used it.

Yours, p.

* * *

pet,

I could have told you that you had a thing for leather from the way you looked at me when we met in that disgusting pub you chose for our first date. I saw the way you looked at my pants, or maybe you were just captivated by how tight they were? You pervert. Did you like wearing that corset, my pet? Did you like feeling the air struggling to fill your lungs and being ripped from you as I pulled the chord tighter? I knew you would. I like watching you gasp for breath. I also enjoyed wearing your godfather's jacket, the way your brow creased with conflicted arousal, the way you touched my bare skin underneath the cold material – that is before I tied your hands…. Are you thinking about it now? Thinking about how I slapped your face for touching me without permission, binding your wrists to the bedhead… Don't get hard, pet. I'm forbidding it.

You were sloppy with that last letter, I told you not to name names, what if our owls are intercepted? Think about what a scandal that would cause. I'm not fond of being in the paper anymore; I'm sure neither are you. So your punishment for this is that you are prohibited from touching your cock for a week. Notice that plain metal ring in the envelope this letter came in? It's a discrete chastity ring. I have a matching (smaller, obviously) one for my pinkie finger which will turn black when you put it around your cock. It stops blood from physically passing under the metal to fill your shaft. If you're aroused I will know, because my ring will turn green. But if you start pleasuring yourself, in any way, it will turn red; not that you will be able to form an erection or climax anyway. And don't think you can trick me, if you take it off it will turn back to silver. I found this clever little device at the adult shop around the corner from the Hog's Head. Frustrating, don't you think?

Have fun explaining that to your wife, darling.

I might try another letter later, but I don't know how you write and not want to incendio it afterwards. It just feels like I am collecting potential blackmail for myself. Who knows; I admit I feel a little bit better having written it down, though not by much. Maybe I should have went into a little more detail, it was sort of vague – mind you I'm sure if Severus were alive and ever did read what I wrote to him, he'd die regardless.

Your son is doing well. He's actually quite good at DADA, not surprisingly, but his tongue is sharp and pressed to his cheek more than I desire in a pupil. He has received three detentions from me; once for hexing a Slytherin student who was not his partner -he is still I the hospital wing with purple slime oozing out of his ears- and two more for insolence and backchat. I do care about your family matters; I want my pet to be happy, and I'm sorry that you are not at the moment. But your punishment still stands.

Also, your writing looks scratchy and messy. Stop crossing out sentences that you second guess after they're written – they're the best lines to read.

-M

* * *

Master;

I'm sorry it's taken so long for me to reply. It'll probably be late when you get this, but I've had to reshuffle everything (again) because I caught my wife going through my things.

I'm also sorry I disappointed you, though I'm glad I wanked before sitting down to read this. The ring is clever, though. Is it also meant to stay cold? My skin hasn't warmed it yet, and the cold metal feels… well, delicious. But of course, you know that.

I might not be able to write a proper letter until Sunday, which is my first day off since the end of the holidays (which hasn't been long, I know, but I've been working double and night shifts).

I miss you. And I won't cross that out, as much as I would love to. Please come back soon.

Yours, p.

* * *

pet,

It's just before midnight now, My poor Iris looks exhausted I really should change up my owls when I write this much in a day. She gave me a solid, unimpressed peck on the hand and is roosting in her aviary in my study now, so let this school owl rest at yours first before making the trip back here.

And no, the metal will not warm; it's a nice little reminder for you to do as you're told. Be more alert about what you keep under lock and spell - women tend to know most of the tricky ones. Maybe try using an identity seal on your drawer of things I have given you so that she won't be able to get through it.

I admit, I do miss the sound of you moaning under my touch with great desperation. I think of you whenever I have time for a moment to myself, but as you know I will not be able to return home until the Easter holidays; unless I can persuade McGonagall to grant me a weekend off between now and then. I will inquire about that possibility when I have the chance.

I hope you are not working yourself too hard. Write to me when you are free next, I will be waiting.

-M


	5. Jan 10, 2018

**Jan 10, 2018**

Master;

I'm so sorry for not replying! Murgon, the Head Healer of Spell damage, had been giving me double shifts again. Of course, I took them to get away from the wife, and because my pay really is good at Mungo's. Murgon still hates me, though, and it's beginning to grate on my nerves.

The other reason is that Cordelia the baby has had colic, and my wife has been making me stay up all night. As you can probably tell, I'm exhausted. There's a bit of good news, though. In a week, I have to come to Hogwarts. My son's been acting up again, (though I'm sure you know), and I'm being forced to go to the school to speak to Minerva, who really isn't very impressed.

Anyway, the ring is still on, and I'm almost tempted to thank you for it, along with thanking my baby girl and Murgon, because my wife (I think I'll start referring to her as 'G', and the baby as 'C'), hasn't pestered me once about sex. It's been bliss. Sort of… Master, will you not allow me to pleasure myself even once? I can take photos again…

I'm not really sure what else I should tell you.

Yours,

p.

* * *

pet,

You do not need to apologize, I told you to write to me when you can; I know we both have very busy work schedules. Between the complete and utter delinquents that are my first years, the rowdy third years and in particular, your son, I have had my own hands very full. I'm barely scraping to teach these blasted first years the Knockback Jinx and don't even start me on trying to get them to memorize how to cure werewolf bites. What are these young ones being brought up on these days? Licorice wands and dungbombs I'm sure of it. Your son is one of the only ones to accomplish anything remotely praise-worthy but he ruins it by being a smart-mouthed back-chatter. He looks so much like you though, I admit it's like I'm twelve again looking at the Boy Who Didn't Take My Hand. It's kind of distracting, actually.

I have been keeping my eye on you, and you have been a very good boy. So far I have counted six instances when my ring turned green, but nothing red or silver. I'm proud of you, but you still have three more days of your punishment, and be glad I'm not adding any extra for your scratched out name.

As for coming to Hogwarts, can you tell "G", as you wish to refer to her from now on as, that you have some medical business to discuss with Pomfrey while your here and that it would be easier to stay at the school for the night? I would love to show you how much I miss my pet… I will make you scream my name again and beg me to give you your release….

Think about it.

-M

* * *

Master;

I really am sorry about my son.

He's been a bit of a nightmare since C was born, really. He's grounded now, anyway, G sent him a Howler. Were you there for that? I am glad he's smart, though.

I've just escaped to my study (with the doors firmly locked with all the spells I know) from telling G about my staying over at Hogwarts. I'm just glad that she was holding the baby at the time, or she would've hit me. She threw a small saucepan at me and now I have a very sore shoulder instead.

Your ring will be green. Master, I ache for release. Surely all this can't be good for my circulation…

I think I'm going to have to take a cold shower now, and hopefully it'll help my shoulder too.

Yours, p.

P.S, do you really think of me (or my son) as 'The Boy Who Didn't Take My Hand'?

* * *

pet;

I was sitting at the staff table when that lovely howler burst into a fit. You know she reminds me of her mother, remember when she sent the Weasel one in our second year? Redundant question I know, of course you would. IS that what she sounds like when she lectures you? I have to calm myself slightly, thinking of her talking to my property like that…. I want to hex her tits off.

Your circulation is perfectly fine, I'm sure as a healer you're more than capable of fixing any issues that might arise from the constriction of your blood anyway; so I am not worried.

Just think of how much better I'm going to make you feel. I need next week to come faster, I need an outlet to vent all my stress and frustration on, and you take it so well.. the way you love everything I make you do and feel and ache for the delicious pain of pleasure….

I have a feeling this year will be the hardest yet - my ex-wife never made me yearn for her as you do, my precious thing.

-M

P.S: It is a bitter memory of mine, I wanted your friendship, as selfish as it might have been. Your son reminds me of that, but don't worry, I don't dwell on it. You have more than changed my mind about everything I knew about you from school.

* * *

Master;

This made me laugh, and I needed that, thankyou. Although I'm also really turned on again too, which isn't as pleasant.

As much as it would amuse me, you shouldn't hex her boobs off until after C is finished with them. As much as I despise married life, I love my little girl. G sounds even worse when she's lecturing me than when she's lecturing my son. He's a definite mummy's boy (although at least he plays footy with me on occasion).

The ring isn't actually affecting my circulation at all, I'm just eager to be able to wank again, and even more eager for your touch instead of my own. I have to confess, I do feel a little smug knowing you want me more than Astoria your ex-wife.

I want you to wear that leather jacket again. Please?

-p.

* * *

pet,

I won't hex any part of her, for now at least.

It's nine pm now. How were you replying so quickly today, slow day at the office? I'm finally in my own quarters.

Today was a little strange… we have a new Arithmancy teacher this year, I'll call her Digit for security purposes… and I'm quite sure she was flirting with me in the owlery after I sent you my last letter, she caught me on my way down. Oh, pet, if you had seen the way she was looking your Master up and down… I would loved to have seen your face. I'm sure you'd have been seething.

I also had a chat to Hagrid in the Great Hall during lunch. He's excited that you'll be here, and was hoping you'd visit him. I said I'd let you know.

And if you're a good boy I'll permit you to leave my chambers for an hour to catch up with him.

Maybe.

I'll leave it at this, I'm going to try and write another letter tonight and see if it works any better. I'll contact you tomorrow if I can and let you know how it goes.

-M


	6. Jan 10, 2018 - Dear Sirius

**Jan 10, 2018**

Dear Sirius;

It's only been a few days since I last wrote, and I'm feeling good that I've kept my promise so far.

Even better is that I'm going to be able to see Draco Malfoy again. For once, I'm actually really bloody glad James is such a disobedient little shit (I love him, but he really is a pain sometimes). Minerva wrote and said that she needed to speak with either me or Ginny. My wonderful wife decided she's going to go to Molly's since she's annoyed I keep working so much, so I get to go to Hogwarts, which has made me more excited than is really warranted.

I'm happy, since he's been punishing me all week. Merlin, this is starting to sound like a diary entry again, although I guess you could call it that. I won't, because it'll make me feel like a twat. As usual, though, I'm writing to you to get something off my chest. Lord knows I'd never be comfortable saying this to you if you were still alive, but still.

I'm starting to wonder why I'm even doing what I do with Malfoy. I mean don't get me wrong – the sex is fucking phenomenal, and I love having him control me – but I feel like that's not really the point. Even after all the shit with Ginny I'm still a bit of a romantic. Do I think I could have a relationship with someone like someone like Malfoy? Fuck, no, the bloke's still prickly as he always has been, but… I just want to feel normal. That's why I married Ginny in the first place, but look how well that turned out… I don't even know what to say. I have a failed marriage that is largely my fault, I have an infant daughter and a disobedient son, a mister (is that like, the male equivalent of a mistress? It should be), and a huge amount of fucked up kinks. Why do I even bother?

I feel depressed now. I wish you were here to help me somehow. Or give me a hug, which is ridiculous for a grown man to want, right? I feel like I really need one, anyway, and not one of those quick hugs Hermione gives me, or those rib-crushers like Molly and Hagrid, or a one-arm-clap-on-the-back thing like Ron. And really, now I'm just whining. But I've always been to afraid (and embarrassed) to ask for cuddles from Draco, and Ginny barely even lets me sleep in the same bed as her anymore.

I can't do this right now. I've got a headache and I'm too tired to wait for Malfoy's reply tonight. Sometimes, I feel so unfulfilled.

I still miss you, Sirius, like always.


	7. January 10, 2018 - Dear Professor Snape

**January 10, 2018**

Dear Professor Snape,

I know I said this was a bad idea, but if I stop being paranoid about this letter getting found and fully express what's going on in my head instead of being so vague, it might actually work like Potter told me it would. So let's try this again.

When I mentioned in my last letter that I was engaging in explicit activities, I didn't really clarify. And maybe to finally write everything down, will help lift a weight I've been carrying off my chest. Somehow, mid-year last year, Harry Potter became my sex toy.

That's right. He's not my 'lover' or my 'secret boyfriend' or even my 'casual piece on the side'; he is what I like to call my 'pet'. I treat him like a dog. I discipline him, train him, praise him when he is good and remain superior at all times. I am his Master.

I have the guy in a collar on his knees in front of me half the time. And you have no idea how sexy that is. Harry Potter, Hero of the Wizarding World, Savior and Defeater of the Dark Lord, submits his body to me to do as I please, and begs to taste my come.

…When did I get so depraved? I know my father was a strict and harsh man, but I honestly don't think he is the reason I've turned out this way. I don't think there was a trigger in my childhood… There's just something about having complete and utter control over someone else that does it for me, it sets my skin on fire like nothing else. To know that someone trusts you to put their very life in your hands and bend to your every whim, knowing that you can and will give them what they crave, what they are unable to give themselves…. The trust is so empowering, and humbling. He humbles me, Sir.

Maybe I should start from the beginning. It was in a quiet street in Muggle London, if you would believe it. He must have been walking the long way home from work. I was used to seeing him here and there, but this time he looked different, withdrawn and, well, what can I say, old habits die hard. A snarky taunt escaped my tongue before I could stop myself. Honestly I don't know how it happened. I was being a jerk and he was getting his hackles up, but then moments later I was shoving him into a side alley with my wand digging into his throat; so close I could smell the last coffee still lingering on his breath. We had shamefully relapsed back to our schoolboy selves and my temper was throbbing in my ears to same beat of the hitch in Potter's small gasps. And I could see something in his eyes, it was like staring into a mirror. Potter had that same unfulfilled look that I remembered in my own every day of my failed marriage. The tension crackled between us like electricity…and it wasn't all that was between us… I can't help but cringe as I write this to you, but I could feel Potter's erection straining beneath his thin summer pants as I glared at him, and he shot a filthy look right back at me but it was laced with a silent plea to do something, anything… he wanted me to hurt him.

If I'm screwed up, Harry Potter is fucked six ways to Sunday, mark my words. He trembled and submitted there and then when I crashed my mouth against his, bruising his lips, tasting blood as I forced myself upon him.

I just checked the time… it's late; and this has become about a foot of parchment longer than I intended and nowhere near where I meant to end up. I apologize for even putting your name to this, well, sordid confession I guess we could call it? But you are the only (dead or alive) person I feel comfortable enough to pretend I'm talking about this to. Maybe I just need to find the right therapist…hahah.

I'm kind of glad you aren't alive ever to discover this filthy little scandal, even though I do miss you, Professor.

-D.M


	8. Jan 11, 2018

**Jan 11, 2018**

Master;

Again, I'm sorry I didn't reply last night. I fell asleep on my desk, and I had ink all over my face when I woke.

Can you introduce me to the Arithmancy teacher when I come up? And please let me out to see Hagrid. He's getting older and I haven't seen him in a year.

I can't wait to visit.

How has your day been? I'm lucky enough to have weekends off because of C, and I've just put her down to sleep. I really wish you could meet her, she's such a beautiful baby. I think she might be blonde, which makes me grin every time I see her, and makes G give me a weird look. Her hair's still changing, apparently. It's funny, I've already got two kids and it still seems like I don't know the first thing about having them.

I'm having a very lazy day, it's wonderful. G's out shopping with some friends from her work (none of which I know), and all my other friends are off doing their own things.

Really, I think the only thing that could make this day better would be either a surprise visit from you, or to be able to take the ring off.

I'm rambling again, so I'll leave my letter here.

Yours,

Harry p.

* * *

pet,

I think you would look fucking adorable with ink smeared on your face. Remind me to invest in some extra ink bottles… I have an interesting new idea for some foreplay now.

Your daughter is blonde? Are you sure your wife isn't having it off with some other lad because she's from a very strong family of all red and from what I recall your parents are ginger and dark haired too…. Curious to say the least. Does she at least have the unruly messiness I'm so fond of?

I've spent most of my day walking around the grounds and telling off students for suspicious or stupid activities. It's nice though, I like being a teacher, surprising as that is. Most of the time anyway. It just sucks being stuck so far away for such long periods of time. I know I could just floo back and forth or apparate from Hogsmeade but that amount of travel would just make me ill I'm sure, never been a fan of that awful navel tug.

Two more days will do you good, pet. I know you ache for release but a punishment is a punishment, you should know I never go back on my word. I want you to know though that I am sitting at my desk in my empty classroom, stroking myself slowly, imagining all the things I'm going to do to you on this table. I have yet to christen it, you know.

-M

* * *

Master;

Yes, I'm sure my wife isn't cheating. I may or may not have done some research (you and Hermione would be proud), and found a simple spell to see if you're related to someone or not. I dunno, I know that's a terrible way of explaining it but I'm still shit at that kind of thing. I hope you get the gist, anyway.

My point is, she's my daughter (though I'd still love her even if she weren't), and she reminds me of you – she has a lot of attitude, and I mean that in the nicest way possible. Because after all, we wouldn't be doing this if it weren't for your snarkiness and my temper. Right?

That ring's going to have gone green for the third time today. I'm so desperate to be able to touch myself, Master. I want you to fuck me wide open on that table, _please! _I need to see you so badly it hurts.

I'm going to have another cold shower now. And then do something to try and take my mind off this near-permanent ache you've given me since I put the ring on.

Yours,

p.

P.S I have no idea what to say about the ink thing…

* * *

pet,

Well, at least one of you is being faithful still. It's nice to know something at home reminds you of me besides all your toys. It's almost sweet.

You're lucky I have a sense of humor though, because I could easily punish you for your little comment about you Master's attitude. But I know it's what makes you keep coming back for more, you masochist. As long as the ring only goes green. You would not enjoy what would happen to you if it went red or silver, trust me on that.

It is not of pet's concern what I plan on doing with the ink. Actually, better yet, I want you to fetch them and bring them for me like a good boy. Make sure it's the non-toxic kind, I wouldn't want to make you sick - from the ink anyway, I love it when you gag.

-M

* * *

Master;

I'm almost tempted to take the ring off despite the punishments, I'm so turned on right now. I need you. Please, Master, let me take it off!

I'm less turned on now, since I had to stop writing this for half an hour to bathe C. She decided to vomit her lunch up, which was really fucking disgusting.

But my plea still remains. I only have two days left (I think), and you know I've learned my lesson.

-p

* * *

pet,

I don't believe you have. As much as you beg and plead that you have learnt your lesson, I have counted one name crossed out in your last letter, your own in the one before that, my ex's name crossed out in the one before that… actually I think you have only sent me one, of all our correspondence so far, that has had nothing crossed out; and most of those were names still readable through your strikeouts.

Don't push me, pet, I have been forgiving and lenient so far, but it will not keep up for another 48 hours.

sternly, your

-M

* * *

Master,

I'm sorry.

Yours always,

p.


	9. January 12, 2018 - Dear Professor Snape

**January 12, 2018**

Professor Snape,

It's Sunday morning now and I've taken my notebook outside to enjoy the cool breeze up in the high stand of the quidditch pitch. I'm also watching the Ravenclaw team practice, they're pretty fierce this year and they're already in the lead for the House Cup.

Anyway, where was I? Right… So now you have a small idea how Potter and I became this thing that we are now. We've never actually had a 'normal' encounter; you know, sexually. It's always been aggressive and involving serious power play, even before it progressed into an actual fet relationship with collar and lead and safe words.

But back to my original problem. I'm still feeling like a disturbed pedophile, seeing Harry's eyes reflected in his son. As a result I think I've disciplined him harsher than I am other students, I don't know. Also, the Arithmancy teacher (I've codenamed her Digit, but her real name is Felicity Trang) has been flirting with me, I'm sure of it. I encountered her in the owlery the other day and she had that highschool girl-like giggle and flicked her hair around aimlessly as she spoke. I haven't shagged a woman since I divorced Astoria two years ago. She split and took my son to France to live with some snooty-nosed wizard who can apparently stand her. Good luck to him. I do miss my son dreadfully though. I'm trying to organize having him for the holidays possibly this coming Easter, but it all depends on his mother. We didn't exactly end on a good note.

It feels wrong but there's a part of me that misses the soft touch of a woman… the soft touch of vanilla sex. Sometimes I wish I had that with Harry but it goes against everything we've built. I don't know. I feel so conflicted.

-D.M


	10. January 12, 2018

**January 12, 2018**

pet,

I hope this letter finds you in a better mood than yesterday. I hope you have thought about what I said and meant your apology. What day are you coming here exactly? I need to make sure I have everything in order. I would ask McGonagall but that would look suspicious I think.

Only one day left of your punishment, although I will miss being able to look down and see my ring glowing green during classes. They will become a little more boring from tomorrow onwards I'm sure.

-M

* * *

Master;

I know it's getting late but I've had a fucking horrid day. Again.

I was in the shower this morning and G decided to come in, and saw the ring. Once she'd stopped yelling at me, I got out and dressed, only to be yelled at some more.

A long (and very bloody tedious) story short, she thinks that the ring is to stop me getting hard around her. Like I need a ring to help with that.

I couldn't exactly tell her the truth so I went along with that and apologised, but she's taken C and gone to her mothers for the rest of the week. I'm starting to think this marriage won't last much longer, unless I do something to rescue it. I'm really hard-pressed to actually find some motivation to, apart from my baby girl, but even G isn't as cruel as to not let me have half custody or whatever you call it.

Anyway, I'm coming to Hogwarts on the 17th, and the meeting I'm having with Minerva is at 4:30pm.

On another note, of course I meant my apology. I can't wait to get this damn thing off. I really need a wank (and G will probably hex my balls off or something if it isn't gone when she returns.)

Yours,

p.

* * *

pet,

I must say the fact that you got caught amuses me. I honestly am surprised it took that long actually. I would be upset though to find that my punishment was the catalyst to breaking apart your marriage completely, and for your children's sake I hope you try to fix things. I know I never divulge in my personal life to you but I will tell you, I regret not having my boy around me since my ex and I broke up. It's a bittersweet price to pay for freedom.

Considering your predicament I will grant you this one mercy. You may take your ring off now and put it in a safe place, in case you ever need to be shown another lesson. I expect photos though. I want to see that glass plug all the way inside your ass and I want you to cum on your chest. I want pictures of you licking your cum off your fingers, can you do that for me, my pet?

arousedly

-M

* * *

…it's taken me at least half an hour to actually regain my ability to move. I came so fucking hard, and it would have been impossible to take photos if you hadn't taught me that spell that makes the camera levitate and take them by itself.

Thank Merlin G isn't going to be home any time soon, though I've already organised some lilacs and such to be delivered to her. At least I'm not so bad a husband that I don't remember her favourite flower or chocolate. I'm still not sure how much I want to stay together. I'm a shitty father and an even worse husband. Sometimes it seems like the only thing I'm good at is being your pet, and even then I'm not all that good at it.

I'm sorry, I'm just overtired and pissing myself off. I really need to stop using these letters to use as a way of whining, since I know how much you hate that.

Thankyou, Master, for letting me take the ring off.

Yours,

p.

* * *

pet,

you did good. I am proud of you. Your pictures were more than satisfactory. I received them during dinner in the Great Hall which was hard to sit through till the end. I'm in my study again, teasing myself with your pictures. You're such a beautiful pet…

And don't be so hard on yourself. You are amazing at being mine and I am very smitten and grateful to own you. I would have you 24/7 if I could.

Tell me more about how good it felt to fuck yourself thinking of me, tell me what you did, in detail. And don't forget to address me properly at the start of your letters again.

-M

* * *

Master;

Merlin, where do I even begin? I took the ring off as soon as I read your permission to do so, and I was immediately hard, though that's not really a surprise. Although my arousal was dimmed a little when I had to go through the whole process of unlocking the box of all my toys.

I barely even prepared myself, and I'm still struggling to sit properly without wincing because of it. I was so hungry for something in me, Master, and I wish it had been you instead of the plug. Next time can I use the black vibrator? I don't think I've ever wanked so desperately as I did, and I still feel a little unfulfilled because sex is never as satisfying as it is with you. As soon as I got the deliciously cold, glass plug I started stroking myself, using my pre-come as my only lube in my impatience .I suspect you picked the glass one because it only just grazes my prostate even when it's in completely, which was just making me even harder and more frustrated as I kept stroking myslef and rocking my hips to shift the plug. I didn't do it slowly for long, because by then I was so turned on it was painful.

Master, I came so hard and quickly that I'm sure I passed out for a moment, and when I came back to my senses I was lying in my pool of come (not what you wanted, I know, and I'm sorry). It took me a moment to actually move, and even then all I could do was remove the plug and roll over to lick all the come from my hand. I hope that photo made up for my other disobedience.

I'm planning on having dinner soon, and then wanking again.

Yours,

p.

P.S, Have you gotten a new pensieve yet? I remember you mentioning your old one broke, but I want to send you the memory I have instead of just a few photos next time.

P.P.S, Master, can I please have a photo of you? I miss your cock so much.

* * *

pet;

I'm glad to hear you enjoyed yourself. And yes you're right, I did pick the glass plug specifically for that reason.

I'm going to allow you to use whatever toy you desire before your visit, but I would much prefer you to keep to anything smaller than myself - I want to feel you stretch around me like when we first fucked.

I have a pensieve on back order at Dervish and Banges, they say it could take up to seven weeks to receive it so I'm not holding my breath for it any time soon.

You're welcome to have a photo of me pet; only you will have to wait till your visit. Then you can snap as many as you like to take home with you.

-M


	11. Jan 13, 2018

**13 Jan, 2018**

Master;

I was so exhausted after I wrote my final letter to you last night, I ended up falling asleep.

I'm getting more and more excited for my visit to the castle - the anticipation is becoming even worse because I'm wanking so much and it's still not as satisfying as being with you is.

I'm on my lunch break again, since it's Monday and I have to go back to work, marital issues and job dissatisfaction aside. Nothing eventful has happened, apart from the fact G sent back the flowers but not the chocolate box. If only cliches worked better on her.

Is my son behaving? I haven't heard anything about him since I received the summons to see Minerva.

I best be going now, Spell Damage is extra busy today. The strangest bloody case I've had today was someone with a lamp growing from their elbow - and you don't even want to know what they'd been trying to charm it to do.

Yours,

p.

* * *

pet,

Women are strange creatures. They have their uses though and can be satisfying when the occasion calls.

I have a feeling that anything your son has done since your correspondence with McGonagall is being kept until the meeting. That said, he has been surprisingly quiet in my classes and only jinxed one girl when I wasn't looking. Her ear still hasn't quite gone back down to it's original size.

I do hope you indulge me more about your weird patients when I have you here with me, your stories amuse me quiet a bit.

-M

* * *

Master;

Most of my stories involve a lot of blood, and contrary to popular belief, only a few rare cases (though they do usually happen weekly) involve lamps and such.

Another funny one today (kind of) was when a woman came in with a frypan cursed to her hand. Her husband and herself had gotten into an argument, and he'd made the pan almost melt to her hand, saying women belonged in the kitchen. As horrid as the bloke sounds, I couldn't help but laugh a little, and got belted over the shoulder with the bloody pan as a result.

Unfortunately, it was also the shoulder G got me with the saucepan a few days earlier (I swear to Merlin, women just like hurting me), and I've had to ice my shoulder.

I still haven't heard from G or C, one of her brothers came around and gave me a lecture, which wasn't exactly pleasant. The males of her family seem to take immense satisfaction in threatening to do painful stuff to my balls.

There's not much to say, really. I've come to realise that the part of my life that doesn't involve you is really bloody boring.

Yours,

p.

* * *

pet,

I like hurting you too. But I like to watch you writhe in pain with pleasure as a stinging afterthought. I can't say I'd ever clout you with kitchenware.

How are you and the Weasel? I haven't heard much about him and the beaver, are you guys still close? Was it him who came to lecture you or another?

You are by far the most interesting aspect in my life too, my darling pet.

-M

* * *

Master;

I must say, I'm actually relieved to hear that being hit with kitchen items is off your agenda. It was the next brother up from R (I really need to come up with some kind of coding system for them, and it is not going to be anything to do with weasels or beavers). I actually have reason to be worried about him, since he's almost as good at potions as you are, not to mention other weird spells.

Anyway, it should all be fine. I send G some more flowers and presents, along with a couple of C's baby clothes. I miss my baby girl. The plus is that I can get takeout and eat on the couch with my feet on the coffee table, which really shouldn't be as satisfying as it is.

-p

* * *

pet,

What if I demanded that you call them the Weasel and Beaver? Would you disobey me? Also, do you really think your best friend would hex you?

Then again_ you_ are fucking _me of all people_, behind his sister's and niece and nephew's back. I could understand where he'd be coming from. I hope he doesn't though.

Do you not own a house elf to cook for you and your family? That sounds outrageous. It still sobers me to realize how little I really do know about you and your family after six months of affair.

-M

p.s: I wouldn't really make you call them that, I'm not that much of a cunt.

* * *

Master;

No, I'm not especially worried, but there would be cause to be if G and I split for good. I wouldn't go against your orders outright, if you were to tell me to refer to them as that, but then again, as you say, you'd never be that much of a tool.

I really don't think I need to worry until (I'm starting to see this as a definite) my marriage ends. How soon that will be, I'm not sure…

Yours,

p.

P.S, is it really that surprising I don't have a house elf when I'm friends with H?

* * *

pet;

I guess you're right; those SPEW badges still pop up around here occasionally, that damn Prefect seemed to have left a little imprint on the weirder groups at school. I saw one the other day when I was in the library checking out some new material for my seventh years. Don't tell her that though, I'm sure she'd pee herself with delight and I don't want to be the cause of that.

It's late now so this will be my last letter today - I've exhausted three school owls and the rest seem to be catching on to my frequent posts and looking busy when I appear in the owlery.

Goodnight my pet.

-M

p.s: Digit brushed against my leg tonight at dinner. It's very distracting. And offputting.

p.p.s: when if your marriage ends you're welcome to live in my study permanently I'd love to release all my work-day tension on you every night. You'd probably have to become Pomfrey's new partner or something though to allow your residency. Haha.

* * *

Master;

You really must introduce me to this Digit woman. I don't like the sound of her. By the way, I think I'll start referring to her as Prefect (as in H, not Digit).

I should go to bed soon too, especially since my shoulder is hurting me and I have another six-and-a-half hour shift tomorrow. Luckily, I don't start until midday.

I might consider taking you up on the offer to live in your study. That sounds wonderful.

Night, Master.

-p


	12. Jan 13, 2018 - Dear Sirius

Dear Sirius;

Since I last wrote, quite a lot has happened.

Ginny discovered the cock-ring I was using on Malfoy's orders, and she now thinks I was using it so I wouldn't have to have sex with her - which is partially true, but still. So, she's gone off to stay at the Burrow with Cordelia, for an indefinite amount of time, and I can't help but feel that this is the beginning of the end.

Don't get me wrong - that isn't a bad thing. We've both been unhappily married for far too long, and I've been an absolute cunt for not really making an attempt to fix it, especially when I know how much she has.

Merlin, I'm a horrible person. The thing I have with Malfoy (because you can hardly call it a relationship) doesn't really help my case at all. That said, I'm still really fucking excited to see him soon. Maybe I'll work up the balls to ask him if we can cuddle be a little closer after we have sex. Surely even he gets bored (for want of a better word) with just the same kind of sex, no matter how imaginative he is.

I should ask, but I feel as if ever since the war ended, all that famous Gryffindor courage has vanished.

I'm going to send Ginny a proper present tomorrow.

I should try and make this all better.

I'm going to go to bed now so I get as much of a sleep in as possible. It seems like every time I write to you these days, my letter turns rather depressive.

Oh well.

I miss you, Sirius.


	13. January 16, 2018

**January 16, 2018**

pet,

It has been a busy past few days. The homework I have to mark is slowly piling up on my desk and it's hard to have spare time to do much else. Your son actually bothered to hand his three feet of parchment in this week too so that's one more to add to it.

I know you'll be here tomorrow so this is just a quick note to let you know I haven't forgotten about you and that I am looking forward to getting to spend the night with you.

-M

p.s: I hope you have packed everything and ready.

* * *

Master;

I've been equally busy removing inanimate objects from people's anatomies and such. The worst I've had so far was a woman's head and arse being swapped around… seriously, some people just do not know how to choose the right man for themselves…

I'm pleased to hear my son's handed his homework in - but you know he really loves your class. He was talking about it in his last letter. He also mentioned he thinks you're a tool, but in his language, I'm pretty sure it means you aren't bad.

In other news, G is speaking to me again, though she still hasn't come back home. If I'm going to be honest, I'm worried. I haven't seen her or my daughter since she left, and I'm starting to miss them both.

Any advice?

Yours,

p.

P.S, I'm packing right now, actually.

* * *

pet.

I'm surprised at this news. James never indicates in any way that he enjoys my subject. Maybe he just dislikes me in general. I must admit I do rouse on him probably more than I should, but it seems to be paying off, for now at least.

Your workdays always sound so much more interesting than mine. Although I did have a second year girl wet herself during a duel when her partner used Rictusempra on her with way too much force… remember when you tried that on me? I never quite understood what your goal was that night.. tickle me into submission?

Oh, how the tables have turned.

I'm sorry to hear about your daughter and wife. My only suggestion would be to go visit her after you come back from Hogwarts, at least you'd get to see C for a short while if she doesn't come back home with you. I'm sorry I'm not much help - as you can probably guess by my current marital status, maintaining a successful marriage is not something I should be giving advice on..

-M

* * *

Master;

Honestly, my job is more exhausting than amusing Sometimes the cases are very sad, too.

I'm not in a very good mood right now. It feels like everything is just out to piss me off at the moment. My stove broke, I dropped my suitcase on my foot… relatively minor things, really, but good god I feel horrid now.

I also can't wait until I get to see you. I miss your touch. You always know exactly what I need. I've been using that black vibrator (the one that's just smaller than you) and it just isn't as satisfying.

I need you so much.

Yours,

p.

* * *

pet,

Don't think too much on the negatives. Tomorrow I will take you as mine again and make you forget everything that tends to dwell in that heavy head of yours - you won't even remember your own name.

My last class is my seventh years. It finishes at 5pm, I will expect you to be in my private chambers when I return (it will take me roughly half an hour to organise my things and head back up), your meeting with McGonagall should be done by that time. You know where my office is; simply tap the book above the fireplace with the Malfoy crest on it with your wand tip and say 'servitutis'. My bedroom is hidden there.

I look forward to finding you tomorrow, now get some rest, dear.

-M

* * *

Master;

I'm finding it extremely difficult not to wank tonight, but I know you'd be disappointed if I did. I think i might need to take some dreamless sleep.

Goodnight, my Master.

Always yours,

-p.


	14. Jan 20, 2018 - Dear Sirius

_**Please visit the rendevouz short story, found here under my profile entitled Pet Ink, if you wish to read Harry and Draco's meet up on January 17, 2018.**_

* * *

**Jan 20, 2018**

Dear Sirius;

Sweet Merlin, what a fucking weekend. I finally saw Malfoy and it was… I don't even have the words. I still haven't been able to get the damn ink off my skin. I need to stop thinking about it or I get an instant hard-on, and there's only so much wanking I can do.

Especially since Ginny came home today. I cooked her dinner, she laughed at the ink. I told her it was Peeves. I think we'll be okay, even if it's just for a little while. We had one of those Big Talk's that require capitalisation, and we've both agreed we want to work it out. I really think I do. I do love her, and I missed Cordelia horribly while they were gone. I'm just about to hop in bed, where Ginny and my baby girl are already sleeping. It's nice to be able to have a warm bed and someone to cuddle, even if I'd much rather *be* cuddled. Still, I suppose it's not too bad. I also suppose I should go to bed. I'll write a letter to Malfoy tomorrow before I go in to work.

I've been thinking about asking him if I can sleep on the bed with him next time I stay the night with him.

That'd be nice.


End file.
